


Not For Fear of Dreaming

by hideyourfires



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Amnesia, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sleepy Caleb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 07:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14327655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideyourfires/pseuds/hideyourfires
Summary: Molly wakes in a cold sweat, dreams still clinging to his skin. The voices linger, whispering in his ears even as he bolts upright, gasping for breath.





	Not For Fear of Dreaming

Molly wakes in a cold sweat, dreams still clinging to his skin. The voices linger, whispering in his ears even as he bolts upright, gasping for breath. It takes a moment for his mind to adjust, to recognise his surroundings.

It’s a boarding room. Small – just two beds. He runs through his memories, struggling to peel away the overlapping layer of his dreams.

It comes back to him in a fog. It’s that tavern, the one that is small but surprisingly raucous. The beady eyes of its owner rise to the forefront of his mind. Yes, they have rooms. Seven silver apiece. Twenty, altogether.  A bargain, he had assured them, flashing his teeth. Jester had been excited to share with Nott, speaking of sleepover activities, and Beau had bunked up with Fjord to avoid that particular brand of ‘bullshit’. Which left him and Caleb.

Molly twists to look at him. Despite his vision, it’s difficult to pick out his features in black and white. He thinks he has gotten away with it, when the candle on the bedside table flickers alight.

“Mollymauk?” Caleb squints into the darkness. He rubs a hand over his face, half asleep. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Molly tries to steady his voice. “Go back to sleep.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

His accent isn’t as strong as it once was; it’s still there, of course, but it rarely makes appearances in all its glory. Only when he stubs his toe, or when he gets really excited. Or now, when his tongue is heavy with sleep.

He drags himself upright, his face pulled into a tired frown. “Have you remembered something?”

Molly forces a laugh. “Nothing I don’t want to forget.” He looks over to Caleb. He isn’t smiling. The laughter dies in his throat. “No. Not exactly. Just a feeling.”

The feeling of somebody else slipping under his skin. He shudders.

Caleb pulls himself out of bed, slowly, pads barefoot across the floorboards and sits, a little stiffly, at the foot of his bed.

“Molly,” He says. He isn’t looking at him, just staring into the darkness. Molly is thankful for his awkwardness – the wave of relief that rushes through him at the sound of his name isn’t something he wants him to see. “You are your own person. Nobody can take that away from you.”

At that, he does turn to look at him.

Molly feels – naked. No bullshit or bright colours to hide behind. Just him, scared.

“Yes, I…” He trails off, speech failing him. “Yes.”

“Who else is covered in tattoos like this?” Caleb asks, gesturing to him. “And jewellery? Who else would wear these clothes?”

Molly snorts. “No-one in their right mind.”

Caleb is looking at him, intently. There is a question in the knitting of his brow.

Molly sighs. “I’m afraid if I remember, I’ll become that person again. I don’t _want_ to be him. I don’t _like_ him. I like who I am now.”

“I think,” Caleb says, picking his words with care, “I think it is fair to say we know each other now, and that we are friends. I think it would be difficult to override all of _this_ ,” He says, nodding his head toward Molly, glancing him up and down, “And I think I would notice if you if were acting not like yourself. And if you are not – I will find a way to bring back the _arschloch_ that is my friend.”

He looks him in the eye as he speaks, and there is such certainty in his voice. It’s at times like these that it comes into focus that despite his quirks, Caleb is quite powerful. It’s easy to forget, looking at him. Smiling softly, stroking the cat curled around his neck. When he speaks like this – _confidently_ – Molly thinks he can see what Nott sees when she looks at him. The man he is becoming.

 _Oh_ , Molly thinks.

“Thank you,” He says. His voice sounds – baffled.

“You are welcome, Mollymauk,” Caleb responds. He leans forward, close enough to make something inside Molly panic – which only increases when he rests a hand where his neck meets his jaw – and drops a kiss on his forehead. “Time for that later, ja?”

With that, he returns to his own bed, and the candle is snuffed out.

Molly lies back, slowly, a strange feeling settling in his chest. It’s not uncomfortable, exactly, it’s just – unexpected. His mind whirrs.

He struggles to get back to sleep – but, for once, it is not for fear of dreaming.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Inspired by this post: https://acepalindrome.tumblr.com/post/172941307733/headcanon-time-whenever-some-of-luciens-memories
> 
> Find me on tumblr @sarahgotbored


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